


Ripples of Dust

by evitably



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Exploration of the concept of consent, Implied past sexual abuse of a child, Lack of Communication, M/M, POV Killua Zoldyck, Panic Attacks, Post-Anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evitably/pseuds/evitably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua stumbles onto the exact nature of Gon's past experience with women at the worst possible moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ripples of Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that this fic is not meant to represent people and couples who are in this position, or even recommend any specific course of action.
> 
> Many thanks to [Shadowling](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowling/pseuds/Shadowling)/[Wordhuntering](http://wordhuntering.tumblr.com/) and [Kuro](http://ssasarious.tumblr.com/) for their beta and support!
> 
> Also posted on [tumblr](http://doughtier.tumblr.com/post/131987399377).

Gon is breathtaking.

This isn't the first time Killua's thought that, but most of the time it lingers in the back of his head, only rearing up to the surface at these rare moments of seeing Gon again. 

It's been three years since they've spent any stretch of time alone together, and now they're lying in bed, face to face, and the moonlight washes Gon's features in silvery white and catches in his eyes. Gon keeps talking about whatever it is he's talking about, but Killua's stopped listening; he gazes at Gon's face, memorising its features and longing to touch Gon's cheekbones, his eyelids, his nose.

"Gon," Killua says. His heart's going a thousand beats per second, his palms are sweaty. He thinks he's shaking.

Gon stops talking and tilts his head to the side in question.

Killua licks his lips. He blurts, "Can I kiss you?" and then shuts his mouth with such force that his teeth clank together loudly in the darkness of the room.

His face is burning all the way to the tips of his ears. He shouldn't have said that. He should've kept his mouth closed the same way he has the other times he felt the urge to touch, he shouldn't have said that, he _shouldn't have said that_ \--

"All right," says Gon and shifts a little closer to Killua, off his pillow and away from the moonlight coming from the sole window in the room.

 _He's beautiful_.

Killua raises himself to his elbows and inches forward, closer to Gon, over the crack where their two beds were pushed together to become one. He pauses when he reaches Gon, looks down at Gon's face, and feels like he's about to burst. He reaches out with his hand, and hesitantly touches Gon's cheek with his fingertips before sliding it down to Gon's jawline in wonder. Gon's skin is rougher than it looks, wind-swept and sun-kissed and uneven with tiny, invisible scars, and it's absolutely perfect.

"You're sure?" Killua asks, because he needs to know that he's not destroying what little he's got remaining with Gon, that this is all right, that he's not overstepping that invisible boundary he'd set when he realised he wanted to touch. It doesn't matter that his voice cracks on the second syllable or that he sounds like he's run out of air. He needs to ask and he needs Gon to answer.

"Yeah," Gon breathes out and gives the tiniest of smiles. Killua feels the word and the smile in Gon's jaw, feels the puff of breath Gon let out, and leans over to touch his lips to Gon's.

The kiss is awkward: their noses are in the way, and Killua is holding his breath, and their lips are chapped and dry, but then Gon moves slightly to the left and Killua slightly to the right, and Gon's eyes remain open while Killua's eyelids flutter shut, and his fingertips drift against Gon's skin until his entire palm is cupping Gon's jaw.

Under him, Gon opens his mouth, lets his tongue touch Killua's lips, and Killua pulls back, eyes wide. He hadn't expected that.

Gon draws back as well and asks, haltingly, "You -- you didn't like that?"

"No!" Killua exclaims. "I mean -- I liked it. I just --" He blushes, looks away, and licks his lips. "-- I didn't see it coming."

Gon leans back in. "So it's okay then? I can do it again?" 

"Y--yeah ..." Killua says.

This time it's Gon who closes the space between them, keeping eye contact and angling their faces so their noses won't bump together this time. Gon's eyes are mesmerising, intent and shadowed and sparkling like the stars outside. Killua feels electrified, nerve endings humming in anticipation, and he can't help but sit frozen when Gon's mouth meets his, and he can't help drawing in a sharp breath when he feels Gon's tongue tracing his upper lip.

He wants to touch.

He raises his arm, slowly, slowly, and puts it around Gon's back. He lets his palm tickle the thin hairs on the back of Gon's neck, tightens his fingers until his nails scrape lightly against Gon's skin. Gon shudders and his eyes darken just a little bit, and he pushes a little more insistently against Killua's lips.

Killua's mouth opens as if on its own, much the same way his hand snaked around Gon. Instinct, or maybe it's his subconscious that's making him do these things; Killua knows better than to doubt either of those. He opens his mouth, allows Gon's tongue in, and he can't be happier, wrapped around Gon as he is, with Gon's smell and taste in his mouth. He's not sure what he should be doing, so he copies Gon as best as he can: eyes open, lost in Gon's; lips adjusting to the movement of Gon's tongue; his own tongue sliding against Gon's and occasionally slicking against Gon's lips. 

A moment later Killua pulls back, panting. He's too hot and he's dizzy and he feels like he's fraying around the edges, skin tangling in Gon's and leaving them as one being. He puts his head in the crook of Gon's neck, still holding tight onto Gon, and takes breath after breath after breath.

"Killua?"

Killua hums. Gon's pulse is racing against his cheek. He supposes it was too much, too soon for Gon as well.

"Killua, I--"

Gon is shivering.

Odd, Killua thinks. There's sweat gathering at the nape of Gon's neck, a scent he's intimately familiar with after years of living, fighting and training together, even through intermittent meetings. Killua knows better than anyone how Gon reacts to --

\-- fear?

The moment his brain comes back online jolts him back to reality: the dark room where they're staying tonight, the single window pouring moonlight over their forms, the gentle warmth of late summer. Gon's breathing: loud and shallow. Gon himself: stiff and unmoving and sweating as though he's just come back from training in the midday heat.

He separates himself from Gon, then. First he removes his hand from the back of Gon's neck, and then he lets his arm drop from across his back. He raises his cheek from Gon's shoulder, allowing himself only a single intake of breath of him before he straightens his spine and looks Gon in the eye.

Gon won't look back.

"Gon?" Killua asks. "Is -- what's wrong?"

Suddenly Gon does meet Killua's eyes, and his expression is the same as usual. "Nothing." His shoulders slump. "You didn't like the kiss."

It's not that Killua didn't like the kiss. He'd liked it so much that he wasn't paying enough attention to whether Gon liked it, too.

And besides, Gon's shoulders -- a silhouette against the moonlight -- are still trembling.

"Liar," Killua says flatly."You're freaking out over something."

 _Over me,_ he doesn't say.

"Seriously, I'm fine," Gon insists, pulling himself together. "Maybe a little nervous, but it's nothing I haven't done before!"

Gon's words hit Killua like bricks; first comes a brief flare of jealousy, then surprise, and then he opens his mouth and asks, "What? When?" Because ever since that first Hunters exam back when they were twelve, and aside from Gon's one date with Palm, Killua can't remember Gon having mentioned being with anyone else.

"I told you already, remember? About the women who came to Whale Island?"

Killua's mouth falls open. " _What_?" he manages, barely, to choke out.

"Yeah, they taught me how to kiss. And other things."

"Gon ..." Killua says. And then he stops. Because the women Gon is talking about are from before Killua had met him, from a time where Gon was younger. Much younger.

Killua can feel his veins freezing, one by one, starting from the pit of his stomach and passing through his limbs to his fingers and his toes, until he sits in place, frozen, staring at Gon in open horror.

Gon fidgets where he sits, moves an inch closer to Killua without noticing it, and Killua --

\-- he flinches away from Gon.

It's a minute movement, only the slightest curl of his spine, but he knows Gon noticed.

 _It's not you!_ Killua wants to explain: he still feels the same about Gon. He wants to put his arm around Gon's shoulders, wants to say something that will tell Gon that nothing's changed -- except everything has.

Gon straightens his back and looks Killua straight in the eye. "I already told you," he reminds Killua again.

"I didn't think they taught you how to kiss, and, and -- and other things!"

"Well, what _did_ you think they taught me?!"

Killua opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again -- but he doesn't have an answer. He _hadn't_ thought about the actual details of what Gon had admitted to before his date with Palm. He closes his mouth again.

Gon huffs. "Why are you making such a big deal out of it, anyway?"

"Making--" Killua says in disbelief. "You're the one who freaked out over a kiss!"

"I said I was fine!"

"You were shivering."

"I was cold!"

"You were sweating!" Killua bunches his palm into a fist; Gon's sweat is still damp on his skin.

"And what's that to you?!"

Killua stares. And stares. And doesn't know what to say.

Gon stares right back at him: eyes narrowed, face flushed. He's trembling again.

A deep breath. Flatly, Killua says, "That's not fair."

Gon just purses his lips together, squares his shoulders, and keeps on staring at Killua.

Killua takes another deep breath. He lets it out slowly, hoping that along with the air his rage, pain and frustration will leave as well. It doesn't work, but he does feel a little more settled, a little more centred. "Why did you kiss me?" he manages to bring himself to ask.

Gon says, "You wanted me to."

Killua forgets how to breathe back in, for a moment; the calm he's tried to reach fades away. His eyes burn. He blinks. "Didn't you?" His voice cracks on the first syllable, doesn't even have the decency to break on the last.

Gon works his mouth, but no sound comes out. His hands are on top of his thighs, and his fingers twitch, nails scratching against the fabric of his pyjama pants.

"What is it, then?" Killua demands. "Yes? No?"

Gon looks down at his hands, clenches them, presses his lips together again, and doesn't answer.

Killua needs out. He twists around and puts his feet on the floor, cool enough to send chills down his body. He moves mechanically, jerkily. Stands up.

He needs out.

"I'll be back later," he tells Gon shakily; because even now, when he feels like he's falling apart, he can't leave Gon thinking that he's running away from him. "I need -- I need --"

 _I need out_.

He's too well-trained to stagger out of the room, but his footfalls are heavier than what he's comfortable with. They echo in his ears along with his breaths.

He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand before he's even reached the door.

And before he steps out, barefooted and on the verge of crying, he hears Gon say, "Yes."

Killua stops where he is, his hand wrapped around the door handle. "Do you really mean it?" he asks without looking back at Gon. "Or are you just saying that because you think that's what I wanna hear?" He waits for Gon to answer, but when he says nothing, Killua mutters to himself, "Yeah, didn't think so," and pushes the handle down.

"No! Wait--" Killua hears the scrambling of a body against bed linen, feels the exact moment Gon's foot hits the floor and the vibrations as Gon comes closer and closer, almost touching him, but not quite. "Wait," Gon begs.

Killua closes his eyes. He lets go of the handle, lets the door close, and turns to face Gon. His vision might be blurry, but the look on Gon's face still breaks his heart: an expression that goes from fear to panic, a sadness that almost gives way to anger. He's seen it once before. He'd hoped to never see it again.

And it's all focused on him.

His mouth goes dry, and all of a sudden he feels dizzy and nauseous, like he might fall over and Gon would have to catch him ... He swallows the sudden rise of bile, clenches his fists. He digs his fingernails into his palm, hard, and doesn't notice when they turn into claws, drawing blood.

He waits.

Gon takes a deep breath. "I meant it," he says. "I wanted to kiss you." He licks his lips. Killua tracks the movement with his eyes, still feeling the phantom burn of Gon's tongue against his mouth.

"But?" Killua presses.

"But I --" and Gon's voice loses its confidence; it's small, confused. Frustrated.

Killua realises that Gon himself doesn't know. "But you need some time," he finishes for Gon.

"-- but I need some time," Gon agrees. "To think."

"To think," Killua echoes.

Gon takes a step back and nods. Killua misses even the strained, untouching closeness of before over the distance.

It's not a yes, but it's not a no, either; a slight flare of hope washes over Killua. He blinks a couple of times to clear his eyes. "Alright."

Gon smiles. His smile is wide and open, almost as if nothing had happened, except it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's get back to bed, okay?" He starts to turn away from Killua and towards their beds, but doesn't take a single step.

 _He's waiting for me to go with him_ , Killua thinks. So he takes a step towards the beds, and then another, and then Gon's smile becomes more real and present and _alive_ , and Killua finds himself helpless in the face of it. He follows Gon to their beds and lies back under the sheets.

Their beds might still be pushed together, but for all that Killua and Gon are concerned, they could be in entirely different rooms.

*

When Killua wakes up, he keeps his breathing even and his muscles lax as he surveys his surroundings: soft bedding, sunlight over his skin, the sound of birds through the open window, the rustle of cotton against flannel as Gon sits up in bed.

Ah. So that's what woke him up.

He waits until Gon pads quietly out of the room and closes the door before he sits up himself and buries his head in his hands, shaken. The last time he'd woken up this alert, it was from passing out after a nasty blow fell on his head, and he'd thought he was still in battle.

Are him and Gon fighting? Is this why he woke up tense? Is this why Gon left him to sleep, even though it's midmorning? Is this why they slept with their backs to each other?

He laughs. Briefly. If he keeps on questioning whether they're fighting or not, they _will_ end up fighting. He scrubs his face with his hand, clears the grit from his eyes, and tells himself to think positive. He tries smiling, pokes at the result, and scowls. Positive thinking is much harder than it seems.

Gon returns at that moment, because of course what Killua had intended was for Gon to come back to the room he shares with the guy who kissed him into a panic the previous night and find said guy scowling.

It would've been funny if it weren't for how obvious it showed this newfound strain in their friendship.

"Hey, Gon!" he says with forced cheerfulness, raising his hand in greeting in direct opposition to how his heart is sinking deep into his ribcage.

Gon takes a hesitant step into the room, eyes troubled. But at least his mouth is smiling, even though Killua knows better than to trust all of Gon's smiles. "Morning, Killua! Sleep well?"

They both wince.

Gon rubs at the back of his neck and his smile turns sheepish. For a moment, his expression is open and sincere and blinding, and pulls at Killua like gravity.

Late last night, in a darkness overshadowed by moonlight, Killua had recoiled from Gon, like a magnet finding its opposite.

The moment ends.

Gon says, plaintively, "This sucks." Killua huffs under his breath half in agreement, half in amusement, because hello understatement. Encouraged, Gon continues. "You're my best friend, I don't want to lose you just because I did something stupid again."

Killua takes a second to process Gon's words; he thinks he can taste bile at the back of his throat. He's the one who messed up, not Gon. "You didn't," he says quietly. There's so more he can say, like _you're my best friend too_ and _you'll never lose me if I can help it_ and _I am so, so sorry_

But he doesn't.

He _can't_.

He gives Gon the biggest smile he can muster and thrusts his arm forward. "Best friends?" he asks, and Gon clasps his hand without any hesitation of self-consciousness, without any nervousness clouding the shine of his smile. Killua feels his own smile soften in return, feels the muscles of his forehead slackening in relief.

He can't help but squeeze Gon's hand once before letting go and taking a measured step back, giving Gon the space he didn't the night before. And just like he knows Gon knew he was pretending to sleep last night, he knows Gon has noticed the space between them now. Gon is like that; he's brilliant, he's smart, he can read people better they can read themselves, and he doesn't hold their shortcomings against them. 

"We should get ready to leave," Killua says.

"Yeah," agrees Gon. "We wasted most of the morning already."

Neither one of them moves.

"Hey, Killua?" Gon says.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks," he says, doesn't elaborate, and moves towards the rumpled clothes he'd thrown haphazardly at a chair standing in the corner of the room. The back of his neck and the tips of his ears blush pink.

Killua tears his gaze away from Gon and follows suit -- his own clothes are in a pile by his bed. He changes his clothes and tries not to pay attention to the sounds of Gon doing the same only a few feet away.

He asks, "I don't suppose you've been here before, have you?"

"Nope," Gon replies, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. When his head clears the collar, he adds, "Kite told me about it before you and Alluka arrived. He did a survey here before -- " from the sound of the bedsprings, Gon sits on the bed, unrolling a fresh pair of socks, " -- and thought we might like it here."

Killua stuffs his pyjamas into his backpack, pulls out a pair of socks of his own, and does likewise. "Nice of him," he says.

"Right?" Gon bounces slightly on his bed. "It's on the way to Seloron, so I thought that instead of taking an airship there we could go by land and have time to catch up before meeting up with Kurapika and Leorio."

Killua's heart is bouncing, too. He sneaks a peek at Gon, finds him dressed. "Cool," he says. He zips up his backpack and announces, "I'm ready."

Gon looks at him weirdly.

"What?" Killua asks, self-conscious.

"You haven't brushed your teeth."

... Ah. "Right."

He unzips his backpack, fishes around for his toothbrush and a wrinkled tube of toothpaste, smiles shakily at Gon, and slinks towards the bathroom. 

When he comes back out, he finds Gon speaking with their hostess, a determined old lady who's chosen to live alone at the edge of an ancient evergreen forest, about an hour's ride away from the nearest village by a rickety car over unpaved road. She and Gon are looking at Gon's map that they'd laid out across the dining table, and she points at some location on it, saying something that makes Gon smile.

Gon's smile widens when he spots Killua, and he waves him over. "I got your bag for you," he says, and Killua's backpack is indeed placed on one of the chairs. "And Mrs Alda packed us some lunch for the road!" He points at a plastic bag on the table, right by the woman's elbows. Killua itches to check what's in it, but he knows that would both be impolite and cause Gon to frown.

"Thank you," he says, and busies his restless fingers by stuffing his toothbrush and toothpaste back in his backpack and zipping it closed. "Well," he tells Gon, "I'm ready again. You?"

"Same here," Gon says. He thanks the old lady profusely both for her hospitality and advice, slings his backpack across his back, grabs their packed lunch, and off they go.

After a few hours, Killua finds that he's ... missed this. All of it. He's missed walking in the wilderness. He's missed being with someone he can trust can protect himself. He's missed walking with someone who can keep up with him, no matter how fast he goes.

Most of all, though, he's missed Gon.

He doesn't regret separating from Gon, never that, but sometimes he does wish that it had never become necessary for them to each go his own way. And he knows that if that hadn't happened, he'd never had got Alluka and Nanika out of the Zoldyck house, and he definitely doesn't regret that either. But sometimes, sometimes ...

... sometimes, he wonders.

He's surprised at how easily he and Gon slip back to their old travelling habits. Neither of them scouts ahead, but it's Killua who finds their campsites, and Gon who finds drinkable water. Sometimes Killua hunts and Gon collects edible plants. Both of them struggle with starting a fire without matches or a lighter, and they make a game of it; Killua wins only half the time.

Killua talks about Alluka and Nanika and describes all the new candy he's eaten in the last three months because he doubts Gon cares about all the candy he ate in the past three _years_. Gon talks about Ging and Mito and Kite, and how weird travelling without Killua has been. One night, lit by the flickering flame and dapples of starlight coming down between the trees, Gon says quietly, "I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend." And Killua, heart in his throat, replies, "You were a great friend." And Gon says, "Liar." 

And Killua has nothing to say to that.

The next night, Killua says into the silence, "I'm sorry I didn't let you make your own decisions."

They both let the silence stretch out and swallow them whole for some time. Then Gon asks, "D'you think we could get it right, now?"

"I don't know," Killua says. "Do you?"

He hears Gon shifting where he's lying, the drag of earth and dead leaves under his weight as he turns to face Killua's silhouette. "Dunno," he says softly, quietly, with intent. Killua's mouth goes dry. "But I want to try."

"Me too," Killua admits, and somewhere deep inside, he's terrified.

The night after that, he imagines that Gon sleeps closer to him than before; their legs are almost touching.

It takes them four days to clear the forest. They'd started increasing their speed sometime around the halfway point of day two because they are, actually, on limited time, and don't want to keep Leorio and Kurapika waiting. The edge of the forest marks the beginning of a mountain range, tall and imposing and recommended only for advanced climbers, but Gon opens their map and shows him where old Mrs Alda had marked down a goat trail leading to the other side.

Kite had been right. Killua really does enjoy the mountain range, as much as Gon enjoyed the forest. He and Gon go into every nook and cranny they can fit into, and if Gon wasn't there to stop him, Killua would've enlarged several that they didn't. They stalk some wild goats, and, for an hour, are stalked by something themselves. The ground is unsteady, the air is dry, there are thorns and brambles everywhere, and yet every living thing they encounter seems to be thriving.

Killua has never had Gon's way with words. He doesn't like baring his heart and laying it out in the open. That would be a weakness, after all, and Killua has no room for those. And that, he knows, is part of why his friendship with Gon had collapsed, burning itself out until the only way left to save it was to cut Gon loose.

But they'd decided to try again, and Killua is determined not to let things end the same way.

Still, he hesitates.

Gon, like always, notices. "What's wrong?" he asks, frowning.

"Nothing!"

Gon doesn't push.

"I wish ... I wish Alluka could see this place."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Gon hums under his breath, jumps on top of a precarious boulder, then holds his hand out for Killua. Killua takes it, letting Gon pull him up. And then Gon doesn't let go.

They've been walking for almost a week now. A week of sharing the same space, of having all the place you could want but still not be able to find a shred of privacy, of bathing together in the one stream big enough after washing their clothes and hanging them on tree branches to dry. But that had been two days ago, and now they're both drenched in sweat from climbing the mountains under the sun, and covered in dirt and dust besides. Just like when they were kids.

A week ago, Killua had kissed Gon. Fact. Another fact: it had not gone well. 

But Gon hadn't changed anything in how he behaved around Killua. He doesn't seem to care when Killua shares his personal space, or when Killua sees him naked, or when Killua's gaze lingers on him for longer than necessary. Gon doesn't seem to care about any of that the same way he didn't seem to care about kissing Killua, except he'd actually cared so much that he'd worked himself into being scared of Killua.

Gon says, "What would she like about this place? It's just rocks."

Killua has to clear his throat a couple of times before he says, "She loves open space, and there's a ton of that here." Gon's hand in his is warm and slightly sweaty. It's probably his own hand that's shaking.

Is Gon forcing himself to hold Killua's hand because he thinks that's what Killua wants?

He remembers Gon's scent in the room where Killua had kissed him. Like he'd been training for a long time under the midday sun. That's what Gon smells like now, too.

He remembers flinching.

He lets go of Gon's hand. Takes a step back. Looks away from Gon's eyes down to the ground, and tries not to feel like he's given up an essential part of himself in the process. It's stupid, really -- they'd spent more time apart than they had together.

"You're doing it again," Gon says, voice deceptively flat. Killua's lifts his head without thinking. "You're making decisions for me again. Without asking me." Killua stands utterly, immovably still. He can't breathe. Gon says, "We said we'd try."

Killua _has_ been trying. Hasn't he just opened up about wanting to show Alluka this place? Hasn't that been enough to tell Gon just how much he was enjoying their time together? "Gon ..."

Gon takes a single step towards Killua.

Killua's feet step back.

"See?" Gon says. "Ever since that night, you haven't been able to stand being around me."

"That's not --"

"Then what is it?" Gon demands. He takes another deliberate step in Killua's direction. Just as deliberately, Killua stays put. "Do I disgust you? Did I make you angry? _I can't fix it if you won't tell me what I did wrong!_ "

 _no, no, no---nonononono ... he's wrong he's wrong he has it all wrong --_ "I'm scared of hurting you again!" he shouts. And into the budding silence, he says, quieter, "You didn't do anything wrong."

It had been Killua who'd asked if he could kiss Gon. It had been Killua who hadn't noticed that Gon wasn't into the kiss as much as him. It had been Killua who had recoiled from Gon when Gon had needed his support.

Can he really trust Gon when he can't trust himself?

"Killua, I --"

"No!" Killua shakes his head. Clenches his fists. He's trembling, there in the mountains, under the sun, and wants Gon to stop coming closer, wishes he'd never asked Gon if he could kiss him.

But he had asked Gon to kiss him, and Gon does keep inching closer, and soon enough he's right there in Killua's space, close enough to feel his heat and smell the sweat and dust on his skin. Killua's entire focus is on Gon -- searching Gon's face, looking at his lips, his nose, his eyelashes, the determination in his eyes, and when Gon throws his arms around Killua in a hug, Killua is too undone to evade him.

"You're not hurting me right now," Gon says into Killua's neck, breath hot and moist. "If you want me to let go, I will. And if I didn't want to hug you, I wouldn't."

Killua swallows thickly. "And if you freak out and I don't notice?"

Gon takes a moment to think, and that moment means the entire world to Killua; it means that Gon won't automatically answer with what he thinks Killua wants to hear. He tentatively, hopefully raises his arms as if they are nothing but a gentle wisp of air, and puts them around Gon in a hint of a hug. If Gon decides he wants out of this hug of theirs, he'll have no problem breaking out of it.

"You'll notice," Gon finally says. And before Killua can voice his protest, adds, "and if you don't, I'll tell you."

"Promise?" Killua asks.

Gon nods and tightens his hold on Killua. "Promise."

Gon, Killua knows down to the marrow of his bones, does not make empty promises.

"You gotta promise something, too," Gon says. Killua would promise to give him the moon, if he asks for it. "Stop thinking you know better than me what I want. You have to trust that I know what I want."

Can he do that? It sounds so simple, yet it's a thing that Killua has failed at time and time again. He wonders if he does the same thing to Alluka. He thinks he does, and promises to himself to stop.

... .and if it's so easy to decide to try to trust Alluka to know what she wants, surely he can try to do the same with Gon?

He picks his words with care: "I can't promise I'll get it right all the time," he says, "but I promise I'll stop assuming things about you." He hesitates, and adds quickly before chickening out, "And about me."

Gon smiles against Killua's neck. "Okay."

Killua gathers his courage, gathers his determination, and holds Gon a little closer, a little more securely. His heart's beating faster than ever, but it's from relief and excitement, not fear. "Is this alright?" he asks.

"Yeah." 

Gon doesn't say _don't worry about it_ ; that would be a lie. But he does give Killua his here and now, this moment of perfect understanding, and the opportunity to finally, finally, get things right.


End file.
